Love Story
by DoctorVanGogh
Summary: A collection of Harry/Hermione one shots exploring the various AU ways in which these two crazy kids get together. Featuring soul mates, marriage laws, and everything in between.
1. I Always Miss You

_I Always Miss You_

Hermione's face went red as she read the words in the reflection of the mirror. Her fingers traced the inky black lines that stretched across her ribcage just under her left breast. The steam from the shower curled her hair as she stood there, staring at the words.

Stunning? Absolutely stunning.

Not pretty. Not beautiful.

Stunning. Her soulmate thought she was stunning.

Her heart swelled in her chest.

"Come on, Hermione! You can't hide all day!" Lavender called as she pounded on the door.

"Is it ghastly?" Parvati asked. "I heard Lily Moon _cried_ after she saw hers, it was so terrible."

"Millicent refuses to show hers."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not ghastly!" She traced the words once more. "It's stunning."

...

"Happy birthday!"

Hermione smiled at the common room full of Gryffindor greeters. "Thank you!" Her eyes scanned the room and instantly caught on a head of red hair.

Ron Weasley came up to her with a wide smile. He opened his mouth but Hermione spoke first. "How do I look?" She held her breath.

Ron blinked and shook his head. "Blimey, Hermione. I don't know. Like an of age witch?"

Hermione's mouth opened but words failed her. She blinked rapidly. "That's it?"

Ron made a face. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "Uhm… you look nice?" Hermione's face betrayed her disappointment. "Happy birthday!" Ron exclaimed in hopes of salvaging the situation. He gave Hermione a big hug.

Hermione pulled back, her nose wrinkled. "Nice? I look _nice_?" She didn't know why she had expected anything else. It was stupid of her, honestly.

" _I_ think you look absolutely stunning."

Hermione's breath caught. She turned slowly to face her best friend: Harry Potter.

"You mean that?" she whispered.

Harry grinned. "Of course. You always do." He leaned forward, hands in his pockets and a teasing grin on his face. "It's almost like magic."

Hermione smiled. She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. " _Thank you_."

"Happy birthday, 'mione."

...

"You really think Malfoy's up to something?"

" _Yes_. Look, I know you don't believe me—"

"I believe you."

Harry paused in the middle of the quiet hallway. He turned to Hermione. "You do?"

She nodded. "I do. You're always right about this… you've been right in the past at least. But not always about the actual culprit." Harry ran a hand through his hair as he ducked his head. She wasn't wrong. "But that doesn't mean _something_ isn't going on."

Harry grinned. "This mean you're going to sneak around with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Hermione blushed and tried not to smile. She raised a finger. "On one condition. Get rid of the book."

Harry sighed heavily. This was already an old argument of theirs.

"I don't care if you follow those potions instructions, Harry. But there are dark spells scribbled into the margins and I just — I'm worried." She stepped closer and took his hand. "You may know people, Harry, but I know books. _Please_ , don't trust that thing."

He watched her for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. We'll get rid of the book."

Hermione smiled in response and she truly was stunning.

...

Hermione and Harry snuck along the outskirts of the Slug Club Christmas party, holding hands and giggling as they watched their classmates suffer through long introductions and Slughorn's shameless boasting. So far the two of them had managed to get around being introduced or even noticed much and they wanted to keep it that way.

Ron was stuck carrying Lavender's drink and purse as he followed her around. He glared enviously over his shoulder at Harry and Hermione as they snuck snacks off the platters.

"How long do you reckon we have to wait before we can sneak back out?"

Hermione pursed her lips and looked around the party. "Technically, hardly anyone even knows we're here. So probably awhile."

Harry made a face. "Should we make an appearance?"

"Probably a good idea."

A slow song started up and Harry grabbed Hermione's hand. "Perfect. No one can talk to us, but everyone will see."

"Wait - what?"

Harry led Hermione out onto the middle of the dance floor and spun her into his arms. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "You can't dance!"

Harry frowned in fake confusion and seamlessly twirled the two of them around. "I can't? Then what on earth are we doing right now?" Harry waltzed Hermione into Daphne Greengrass who scowled at them over her shoulder. "Oops. Sorry!" He inelegantly pulled Hermione and himself out of Daphne and Theo Nott's space. Hermione was laughing into his shoulder. "Okay," he agreed with a nod, "maybe you're right." Hermione didn't stop laughing. Harry watched her as he swayed them back and forth. "Having fun?"

Hermione looked up, face flushed, and nodded. "I am, thank you. Tonight has been lovely."

Harry's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "It has, hasn't it? We can stay longer if you like?"

Hermione shrugged. "Whatever's fine." Harry nodded.

Not long later, the party was crashed by Draco Malfoy and his goons. Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick look and a smirk each before they raced after the Slytherins to ease drop.

...

Hermione cried all night when he started dating Ginny. Ron held her and called whoever had hurt her a "good for nothing git." He didn't realize it was Harry.

Hermione distanced herself from Harry whenever he was with Ginny. She spent more time in the library than she had since third year while doing too many classes and trying to win Buckbeak's case. Sometimes she skipped meals but Ron picked up on it instantly. He would either drag her down to the Great Hall or sneak the two of them into the kitchens. Ron was an angel. Hermione didn't think he knew what was happening exactly, but she thought he was starting to catch on.

Ginny and Hermione weren't very close.

They hadn't been on the best of terms since Hermione revealed who her soulmate was.

They'd stopped talking when Ginny still made a move on Harry.

Hermione tried not to feel like she'd won some sort of battle when Harry stayed at Hogwarts for Easter Hols. She didn't know if Ginny said something, but Harry refused to leave Hermione on her own.

Ginny called Hermione a tramp after Harry broke up with her.

Hermione and Ginny were no longer friends.

...

Harry didn't know what to think when he saw the four bold words written across his forearm: _I always miss you_.

His mind ran through the possible people who would say that to him at first glance. It had to be someone he already knew. His soulmate.

He shook his head. He didn't have time for this. Today was his birthday. Today the Order was picking him up. Today the blood wards were falling. The war had already begun.

The doorbell rang.

Harry threw the door open and smiled at the assembly of Order members before him — mostly Weasleys.

"Harry!" various voiced chorused out. "Happy birthday, mate!"

'Happy birthdays' continued to be thrown about as they filed inside. A pair of familiar arms threw themselves around Harry's neck as Hermione's body slammed into his chest. Harry huffed out a laugh as he hugged her. "Hey, 'mione."

Hermione pressed her face into his neck. She didn't say anything.

Harry grinned. "Miss me that much, huh?"

She pulled back and stared seriously into his eyes. She licked her lips. "I always miss you."

Harry's eyes widened. His breath shallowed. Hermione smiled weakly. He pulled his arms tighter around her and drew her in close to him. Neither moved until Moody threatened to hex them both.

...

Harry looked ridiculous in his disguised form. A proper Weasley but with a clearly distinct manner unlike the rest of the family. Hermione liked to think that even if she hadn't known she'd have been able to pick Harry out by mannerisms alone.

"So, he finally figured it out?"

Hermione turned and raised her eyebrows at the Marauder beside her. "I beg your pardon?"

Remus wasn't facing her but watching as Harry chatted with Viktor Krum. "He's so like James that it always gives me whiplash when he acts like Lily." He glanced sidelong at Hermione and said, "She had no clue until her soul mark showed up."

Hermione played with the hem of her dress. "And that… that didn't upset James?"

Remus smiled fondly and shook his head. "Nah, James always knew it would be her. Not much could discourage James Potter. Besides, Potters are notorious for finding their soulmates young. I wasn't surprised Harry had become best friends with his own."

She looked down at her lap. "But he didn't _like_ me. Not like that. I'm… I'm like an afterthought."

Remus studied the young witch beside him for a long moment. "I wouldn't be so sure." Hermione looked up, her caramel eyes meeting her ex-professor's golden ones. "Harry has never been good with emotions. Not unlike his mother, he has problems identifying feelings for what they really are."

"You think?"

Remus shrugged. "You tell me. How did he react?"

Hermione smiled.

Remus patted her hands. "Take good care of him. He's far more reckless than James ever was."

Hermione smiled teasingly at the werewolf. "I find that very hard to believe. James had you and Sirius at his side, after all."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he agreed at length, "and Harry has Ron and yourself. I've yet to decide which is worse."

They both looked back out to the dance floor and watched the people go by. Hermione waited until Remus took a sip of his champagne to say, "Did I ever tell you about the time we illegally smuggled a dragon out of the country?"

Remus chocked on his drink.

...

"It's not in here." Hermione exclaimed. "I've checked everything. Twice!" She slammed the book shut and paced up and down the length of their bigger on the inside tent.

"Look, clearly the books aren't helping," Harry tried to reason.

Hermione spun around. "Aren't helping? They're _books_ Harry. That's what they're supposed to do! What good is a book if it _doesn't bloody well help!_ "

Harry closed the distance between them in an instant. His fingers gently cupped her face. "It's going to be okay," he whispered. Hermione's entire body tensed and stilled. She stared up into Harry's eyes desperately. "We're going to figure this out."

"We have to," she breathed. Her curls bounced as she shook her head. "I can't lose you. I won't. We need a plan. A direction."

Harry wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. "I wish I had something for you — anything."

"I know."

He pressed his lips to her head. The smell of tulips drifted up from her hair. The flower had very quickly become his favourite. "I love you."

Hermione smiled into his chest. Her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. "I know."

"Oi!" The two jumped and pulled apart. Ron scowled at them from the entryway. "I'm not going back out to get more wood. If you two want to keep being cute then go outside."

Harry saluted and Hermione smiled as she rolled her eyes.

...

 _CRACK!_

"Happy Christmas!"

Hermione laughed and threw a streamer at Ron. "How did you even get these?" She tossed half of the cracker aside.

"Magic," Ron scoffed, "obviously."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry nuzzled her neck from behind and whispered, "When we went to the muggle village for supplies the other day." Hermione nodded and made an 'o' with her mouth. She smiled triumphantly at Ron who pointed at Harry.

"No telling secrets! Come on, mate. Who's side are you on?"

Hermione's smile turned into a self satisfied smirk. She leaned back into Harry's chest and stroked her hands over his knees at either side of her. "I think your question answered itself," she gloated. Ron gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically.

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, mate."

" _Traitor_."

They laughed.

The locket was tucked away for the night. A Christmas Eve present to all of them. The Golden Trio hadn't felt so happy in weeks. Light, almost. As if the weight of the world wasn't on their shoulders.

Harry sighed.

But it was.

Hermione turned her head so she could see him. Her fingers touched his cheek. "What's wrong?"

Harry searched her face for a long moment. "I want to go to Godrics Hollow."

Ron paused mid clean-up at the other side of the tent. He looked over to the couple, awaiting Hermione's response. He knew how important something like that would be to his friend. He also knew how dangerous it would be for all of them.

Finally, Hermione said, "I've been thinking the same thing."

...

The smell of the sea filled Shell Cottage. Hermione sat under the soft sheets of the bed Fleur and Bill had given her. The room was small but held a large window that faced the ocean. She spent her days staring out at the coast down below.

The door opened. Harry entered with a tray of tea. He closed the door behind him with the heel of his boot. "Hey," he greeted quietly as he set the tray on the side table. He slipped his shoes off and crawled into the twin bed behind her.

Hermione leaned back against his chest and sighed as Harry's hands came around her body. Her head fell back to the crook of his neck and she finally felt safe again.

"Hungry?" Hermione shook her head. "You need to eat something." She stared out the window. Harry kissed her neck. "'mione." She sighed and turned her head towards the tray. Harry handed her a cup of fruit and a mug of green tea.

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

Harry suppressed a snort of amusement as he kissed her temple. "I'm not giving you coffee on an empty stomach. Now eat your fruit."

Hermione popped a grape into her mouth. "Tyrant," she whispered.

Harry smiled.

She was okay.

They were going to be okay.

"I love you."

...

" _NO!_ "

The sound tore from Hermione's throat without her consent. Ron held her back as she screamed.

Harry was dead. He was gone.

She fought uselessly against Ron's hold on her. "No! _Harry_ …"

"Hermione!" Ron pulled her back before she broke free. He knew if he let go she'd go racing across the courtyard. "Hermione, come on. _Please_."

"No…no…"

 _I always miss you_.

...

 _CRACK_!

Harry's head whipped to the side with the force of Hermione's slap.

"Don't you _ever_ do something like to me again, Harry Potter."

Harry straightened his glasses and turned back to the irate witch. "Hermione."

"Don't 'Hermione' me, Harry James."

His head jerked back. "Did you just middle name me?" Hermione crossed her arms. "Don't you want to know where I was, at least?"

"Where you were?" Hermione questioned furiously. "Oh, you mean, when you said you were working and would have therefore been in the massive attack that the rebel Death Eaters just enacted on the Ministry and made me think you had _died_ when you didn't contact me immediately afterward? Where you were instead of doing what you had told me you would be doing today?"

Harry tried not to grimace. "Yes…"

Hermione cocked her hip and raised an eyebrow. "Where were you?"

"Getting this," he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small satin bag. He gave it to Hermione.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry before untying the drawstring and emptying the small item out onto the palm of her hand. She gasped.

"It was my mother's," Harry supplied. The ring gleamed by the rays of moonlight that hit it through the window of their small cottage home. A large ruby surrounded by diamonds.

"It's beautiful."

"I want you to wear it." Hermione looked up. Her eyes met Harry's and her breath caught. "And I don't want you to ever take it off."

Hermione tried not to cry. She pursed her lips and looked away as she feigned nonchalance. "Is that your attempt at a romantic proposal, Mr Potter?"

Harry stepped closer. He ducked his head so his face was close to hers. His fingers traced lightly along her sides. "Depends, is it working?"

She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her lips. "I love you."

Harry grinned. "Is that a yes?"

Hermione finally met his gaze again. "It's a 'if you make me think you're dead for a _third_ time, the ring comes off.'"

Harry nodded reasonably. "I can live with that."

Then he kissed her.

And it was stunning.

* * *

 **Prompt:** Soulmates receive a tattoo of the first thing their soulmate will say to them on the day they become of age.


	2. That's Not My Name

_That's Not My Name_

The first time it happened, Hermione didn't even blink.

"Harmony?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped up to the counter. "It's _Hermione_ , actually."

The young man — a black haired and green eyed man that was far too good looking for Hermione's blood pressure — smiled and winked. "Sorry 'bout that. Here's your cappuccino."

Hermione picked it up. Her nose wrinkled when she saw the spelling of her name. "Thank you," her eyes flickered to his name tag, " _Harold_."

"Just Harry, actually." His eyes twinkled and his grin gave away his amusement.

"Hmmm…" Hermione turned and began to walk away.

"Have a good day!" he shouted after her.

Hermione half turned around. Her gaze met his over the rim of her cappuccino. Her brown doe eyes wide and her curls bouncing around her head wildly. Harry watched until she disappeared.

Hermione probably would have wrote off the entire interaction until she took a closer look at her take-away cup. Along the coffee sleeve in messy sharpie were the words:

 _The coffee's hot, but you're hotter_.

Hermione stumbled.

She didn't regain her balance the rest of the day.

…

Hermione straightened her spine and threw back her shoulders before entering the Marauder's Mug. She would not be embarrassed away from the best cappuccino of her life. No, sir. Harry or Harold or _whoever_ could just — oh, he wasn't there.

Hermione sighed, whether in relief or disappointment she refused to analyze further. Just as the customer before her was ordering, Harry came out from the back. His attention was on the plate of chocolate cupcakes he was putting out for display. His eyes flickered upward and instantly met her own. Harry smiled charmingly.

Hermione felt her throat constrict.

"Miss? _Miss?_ " Hermione shook her head and looked to the cashier. The petite ginger raised her eyebrow. "Can I take your order?"

"Yes, sorry, medium cappuccino." Harry had moved to the espresso machine and was already making it.

"Name?"

" _Hermione_."

"€2.95"

Hermione paid and moved over to the pick-up area. She tapped her fingers against her arm and pursed her lips.

"Herminee?"

" _Hermione_ ," she corrected instantly.

Harry stood grinning at the counter. Hermione glared and went to receive her drink. The barista held up a white paper bag. "Your cupcake?"

Hermione frowned in confusion. "I didn't order a cupcake."

"No? I thought I saw you eyeing them?"

"I wasn't eyeing the—" Harry's brow raised, the corners of his mouth turned up triumphantly. Hermione's glare turned to ice. "I neither ordered nor paid for that cupcake."

"My mistake. It's on me." He winked.

"I don't eat chocolate," she declared before spinning around and heading towards the door.

"It's vanilla!" he called after her.

Her cup said:

 _Is this coffee steaming up my glasses or is that just you?_

It did _not_ make her smile.

…

Hermione went to the Starbucks down the corner the next day. Her coffee came with a "next please," a misspelt name, and didn't even taste good. It was later spilt all over her when someone bumped into her on the street. Her heel broke on the way home from work and then it began to rain.

It had nothing to do with not going to the Marauder's Mug. Nope. Nothing.

Hermione went back to the independent coffee house the next day.

…

Harry was on cash. The place was nearly empty of people. "Morning," he grinned as his eyes skimmed her body. She was wearing her new pencil skirt she'd bought over the weekend when she was replacing her heels. "You look lovely."

Hermione pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, mostly to stop the smile. "Medium cappuccino, please."

He winked. "On it."

Hermione paid and moved around the counter to where the pick-up area was. It was right by the expresso machine and she watched Harry steam the milk. He was tall and fit. His unruly black hair was more attractive than she'd like to admit.

"So where do you work?"

Hermione blinked and met Harry's eyes, desperately hoping he hadn't caught her staring. He was waiting for an answer as the milk foamed. "McGonagall and Flitwick."

"A lawyer?" He turned and finished scooping the foam into the cup. Harry made a face as he set her cappuccino and a muffin down in front of her. "I should probably stop stealing food to give to you then, eh?"

Hermione took her drink. She left the muffin. "Less because I'm a _paralegal_ and probably more because you might get fired." She slipped a lid onto her cup and stepped back, ready to make her retreat.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I won't tell if you won't?"

"Now that depends," Hermione replied with a raised eyebrow, "did you spell my name right?"

Harry laughed. "Blimey, I don't even think I've been _pronouncing_ it right."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to the door.

"See you tomorrow, 'mione!"

"That's definitely _not_ my name!" she called over her shoulder.

 _Are you coffee? Because I've been thinking about you a latte._

…

" _No_ ," Hermione argued, "look, I don't like it. I'd simply like it remade. I don't need a refund, I'd just like my coffee."

"Is there a problem here?" A tall man and near carbon copy of Harry came around to the pick-up area.

Hermione sighed. "There's something off with my cappuccino. I don't know what, but there is. I've had it plenty of times here—"

The older man turned to the shorter, chubby cheeked youth who'd made her drink. "Ritchie?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what happened, Mr Potter? I thought I did it right?"

Mr Potter turned back to Hermione. "Sorry about that, ma'am. We'll remake it—"

"I'll do it." All eyes turned to one: Harry Potter. "Medium cappuccino?"

Hermione nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

He smirked at her and said, "What was the name again? Hermnee?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yes, that's it exactly. And yours? Hagrid? Haggis?"

Ritchie and James' eyes ping-ponged back and forth between the bickering pair.

"Haggis? Who would name their child Haggis?"

James leaned towards Ritchie. "I should of," he said out of the corner of his mouth, "that's brilliant."

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione continued, not having heard James speak, "a perfectly befitting name for you, I should think."

Harry laughed. Hermione crossed her arms and grinned. "You just don't quit, do you?" He placed her ready made cappuccino down. "Do you ever _not_ have a response?"

"No."

Harry grinned.

She took her cappuccino.

"See you tomorrow!" Harry hollered after her.

Hermione accidentally looked back. She scolded herself instantly and continued on to work. She set her cappuccino down at her desk and tried to ignore the coming pick-up line so thoroughly that she nearly let her drink go cold.

Finally, she gave in.

There was nothing there. Disappointment filled her. Maybe he hadn't had time? Of course he hadn't, they'd been flirting — _arguing_ , the whole time.

Oh well, she thought, it didn't matter either way. She wasn't interested. He was far too pretty for her. And probably loud, dirty, or partied too much or something else she would eventually hate. Not that she was even interested — not really.

Hermione turned her attention to work as best she could. The disappointment never left.

During her break, she picked up her cup and tossed it in recycling. She didn't notice the phone number accidentally hidden beneath the coffee sleeve.

She didn't go back to the Marauders Mug.

…

Harry was only walking past when he saw her through the window. He did a double take before pausing. A grin slid across his face. He hopped the gated fence that blocked off the street from the patio area and slipped into the coffee shop. He ran a hand through his hair before asking, "Did I scare you off, then?"

Hermione jumped and turned around. Her eyes widened on Harry. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I just know you like our coffee best which I don't blame you for. It is the best. So I'm wondering if I was too forward." His mouth ticked up in the corner and his tone was amused but there was an underlying seriousness to his question that confused Hermione.

She blinked and searched for words that seemed just our of reach. "No. Of course not."

"If you're sure?"

Hermione pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. "I am. Why're you even here?"

Harry leaned forward conspiratorially. "I'm scoping out the competition."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought your coffee was the best?"

"You thought right." Hermione pursed her lips again. "Fine. I saw you while walking by and I had to stop to talk to you."

Hermione blinked. She laughed shortly. "If I've always got an answer, than you've always got some horribly cheesy pick-up line."

Harry gasped, hand to his chest in mock offence. "They're not lines. They're _romantic_."

Hermione shook her head. "You're insane." She moved forward in the line to the cash and ordered her drink.

"Make that two," Harry cut in and handed the barista some cash. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry and said nothing. They moved to the side. "So was I too crass, then? I thought my lines were fairly innocent. My godfather's suggestions were a lot more… involved."

"Charming."

Harry watched her and waited for her response.

She sighed. "You obviously weren't serious and I don't like being—" she gestured aimlessly, "played about."

Harry looked startled. "I wasn't playing you about." She huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "I wasn't! Didn't you look at the last one?"

Hermione shook her head. "You didn't write anything."

"I did! I swear I did."

Their cappuccinos were called and Hermione walked away, claiming, "I don't have time for this." She slid a lid onto her cappuccino and turned one last time to Harry. "Thank you for the drink. Good day."

Harry left his drink behind and ran out after her. "No no no no no, that's not the end of it."

Hermione sighed and stopped walking. Harry came around so he was standing in front of her. Her shoulders sagged in exasperation. "Isn't it? The second I gave you a bit of attention back, you stopped. You don't give a shite about me you just want a body to flirt with and I'm not sorry that I'm not willing to participate in your self gratification so — what?"

Harry was smiling. "I wrote my number on the cup."

She blinked. "No you didn't."

"I did." He nodded at her. "Take a sip of your drink." Hermione hesitated before slowly sipping it. She made a face. "You think its horrible. I know because I do give a shite about you, thank you very much." He stepped closer. "You do like chocolate and you weren't eyeing up the cupcakes." Hermione's cheeks turned pink. He took another step and looked into her espresso brown eyes. "And you don't like cappuccinos. You like _dry_ cappuccinos. Espresso, no milk, just the foam." He plucked the cup from her fingers and tossed it into the garbage bin. "So how about I take you to the Marauders Mug and make you a _real_ cappuccino and then we can talk about that date we're going to have tomorrow night."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment. "Are you trying to seduce me with coffee?"

"Try? I rather thought I was succeeding."

Hermione grinned.

He wasn't wrong.


	3. Be My Valentine?

_Be My Valentine?_

Hermione was wearing a form fitting black dress and exceedingly high heels. Her curls cascaded down her back without a single frizz in sight. She'd painted her lips red in honour of the holiday. It was Valentine's Day and Hermione was dressed to win.

Harry swallowed thickly. He resisted the urge to loosen his tie. He didn't want her to know how well she was already doing in their little competition — it was only pre-game and she was already up six points.

By the way Hermione's lips curved into a delicious little smirk, she was well aware. She glided towards Harry, hips swaying, and fixed his tie. Her eyes raked over his three-piece suit with obvious appreciation before she leaned forward and gave Harry a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Harry spread his hand across her lower back, gently holding her in place against his chest. "Isn't this more after date behaviour, Miss Granger?" He kept his voice at a low whisper, the way he knew she like it.

Hermione's eyes widened innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr Potter. This is how I start off all my first dates."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And I'm the one with a playboy reputation?"

"Maybe I'm more discreet."

Harry lowered his gaze, drawing attention to the way Hermione was so casually draped across him. She smiled and her eyes fluttered before she leaned back. "Fine. I'll ease up."

Harry smirked. "I just want you to play nice." They made their way to the door and slid into their coats. "How're we doing this? First date, you said?"

Hermione opened the door and they headed down the steps of Grimmauld Place into the brisk February air. "I think so. Blind date?"

Harry made a face as he fixed the collar to his coat. "Nah, but we don't know each other well. So none of," he gestured to the manor, "that. Until later in the night at least."

Hermione smirked at him over her shoulder. "Only if you play your cards right." She raised her hand to hail a taxi. They climbed in and Harry gave the name to a prominent muggle restaurant. "Fancy." She raised an eyebrow. "Trying to make a good impression?"

Harry grinned. "I'm just doing what I _normally_ do." He gave her a significant look. "Some of us can play fair."

Hermione let out a short laugh. "Said the man who deliberately didn't shave."

Harry ran a hand across the stubble on his face. He couldn't stop the smile that her comment elicited. "What? I took my best friend's advice and decided I look far more sexy when I've got a little scruff." Hermione laughed. "Your words, not mine." She groaned jokingly and looked out the window.

"This was a good idea," she stated suddenly. She looked to him across the back seat of the taxi. "Much better than spending Valentine's on my own. Or worse, at one of those horrid singles night events." Hermione shuddered.

Harry snorted out a laugh. "Did I tell you? Had drinks with Nev in Hogsmeade. He was tellin' me about last Valentine's Day. He went to one of those events and got paired with his _ex_."

" _No_."

"Yeah." Harry wiped his eyes as he laughed. "Claims that's why he just tells people he's in a serious relationship with his plants now."

Hermione burst into laughter. "Oh, that's good, though. I'll use that line with books from now on."

Harry turned his head and studied her. "Not planning on getting back into the dating game?"

She shrugged. "I've lost faith. Men are pigs." She looked at him. "No offence."

He shrugged as well. "None taken. You've dated some real arses."

She covered her face and groaned. "Don't remind me."

The taxi pulled to a stop. Harry paid the fare before hopping out and opening the door for Hermione on the other side. Hermione smiled. "Such a gentleman."

"You haven't seen nothing yet." His arm slid through her open jacket and around her waist. His mouth brushed her ear as he whispered, "I'm pulling out all the stops for you. Prepare to be wooed, Miss Granger."

Hermione's breath caught. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

—

The restaurant was beautiful. Perfectly lit with live, soft violin in the background from somewhere deeper in the restaurant. The soft playing carried through the various rooms and to Harry and Hermione's secluded table. Candles were lit on the table, little tea lights floated in a bowl of water with rose petals.

Harry helped Hermione out of her coat. His fingers slid down her bare skin. Hermione smirked at Harry over her shoulder. He pulled out her chair then moved around to his own seat.

"This restaurant is lovely, Harry."

"Yeah, I've been waiting to take someone here." He pulled the table napkin across his thigh.

"And you decided on me?" Hermione leaned forward, her arms folded beneath her chest and providing a splendid view for Harry.

Harry swallowed as he tried to keep his eyes fixed on Hermione's face. She was playing with him, he knew. Any other man would only see a genuinely interested and appreciative face. Harry knew better. Hermione could out manipulate Salazar Slytherin if she really wanted to. She was going to win their little game. They both knew it. But Harry refused to go down without a fight.

He looked up from beneath his lashes, playing on the emerald green of his eyes that he knew Hermione loved so much. "I was hoping to impress you." He grinned nervously.

Hermione's head tilted slightly. She wasn't sure how much of that line was an act. "Did you?"

"Can you blame me?" He smiled that 'charming but doesn't know it' smile that Hermione secretly loved. Harry leaned forward, his eyes so heavily fixed on Hermione she stopped breathing. "You are so utterly beautiful, 'mione, it's ridiculous."

Hermione looked down at the table. The apples of her cheeks gave away her blush. Damn you, Potter, she thought. That was definitely a point to him.

—

Hermione leaned forward, her chin resting in her hand. "So… big bad auror. Quite the job."

Harry grinned up at her as he fiddled with the cloth napkin in his lap. "I like it." Hermione's eyes glittered with amusement as her fingers slowly stroked along the stem of her wine glass. She knew Harry hated when others gushed about him, but subtle compliments always made him adorably flustered.

"Do you?"

Harry forced himself to stop fiddling and took a sip of his wine. "Mmm… well, when you spend most of your life in high adrenaline situations…" He shrugged and grinned. It was his standard response when people questioned him about his profession.

"But that's not why you chose it."

"No, I mean…" Harry shrugged. "I guess I just want to help people. And I can as an auror."

Hermione leaned across the table. Her fingers curled around his and her other hand touched his arm. "That's a wonderful ambition."

Harry smiled. His eyes locked on her long tanned fingers wrapped around his own. He couldn't stop the tingle that ran down his spine. "I - uh… I certainly hope so. I mean…" He shook he head. When he looked back up at Hermione, her smile had curled at the edges into a faint smirk.

Another point to her.

Harry raised her hand to his lips kissed her knuckles. "You flatter me, Hermione. But enough about me." He pushed a curl behind her ear and Hermione smiled prettily. "I read enough about myself in the _Prophet_. I want to know about you."

Hermione shrugged one of her shoulders lightly. "I'm not very interesting."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Harry cocked his head to the side. "Word on the street is you've got a higher IQ than Ravenclaw herself."

Hermione pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back her smile. She looked out across the restaurant and took a sip of her wine. "Have you been asking around about me, Harry?" she asked when she looked back to him.

Harry was leaning forward, his eyes never having left her face. "Can you blame me? You fascinate me."

Hermione's cheeks instantly flushed. Harry was hitting the nail on the head when it came to her perfect male fantasy. She swallowed visibly. A definite point to Harry who was still studying her face. Hermione's blush had yet to recede. "And why is that?" she finally managed.

"Everything you do," he replied simply. "Creature work, orphanages, the revision of Hogwarts' academic structure. I could go on. I mean, you're beautiful and intelligent but you're also… you're _you_. You care. I wish more people cared the way you do." Hermione smiled her warm, loving smile that was often reserved for only Harry or Teddy. She decided he deserved another point for that one.

"You seem to know a lot about me."

Harry smiled and looked down at the table. "I've been wanting to ask you out for ages." He fiddled with the cutlery for a moment.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why haven't you?"

When Harry looked up from the table, the seriousness in his gaze gave Hermione pause. "I was scared you'd turn me down."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell if he was playing or not. She decided to go for the truth. "I had no idea you even thought of me like that — this."

Harry shook his head and chuckled. "A bloke could lose all his senses and he'd still fall for you."

She rested her chin in her hand again and smiled flirtatiously, confident the game was back on track despite her momentary confusion. "Have you fallen for me, Harry?"

But the look in Harry's eye when he studied her face after that, it nearly took her breath away.

—

"It was magical, honestly," Harry was saying. His story had stalled their dinner. Hermione was only a few bites into her fettuccine alfredo when Teddy had inevitably been brought up. "I mean, you get brought into this whole new world and we learn all these new magical things and sure, everything's… magical but… it doesn't even compare, really. Not to that moment." Harry leaned forward giddily and whispered, "He called me _daddy_."

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. "That's just so wonderful. That's _precious_!" She leaned forward as well. "Why am I only just hearing about this now?"

Harry shook his head. "It just happened the other day."

"I should have been told."

Harry shrugged. "Well normally I wait to talk about Teddy, not often first date conversation." Hermione made a face at him. He knew what she meant. He grinned and cut into his steak. "I was saving it. Something I wanted to tell you in person."

Hermione nodded her head once. "Fine. I'll allow it." She smiled down at her plate. "I'm glad you told me in person." She looked up at him. "I can't wait to hear him say it at the Weasley's. They'll go nuts."

"They already go nuts over him."

"Can't blame them, Teddy is irresistibly adorable." Harry smiled and nodded at that. Hermione ate a few more bites before she set her fork down. Her gaze on him gave away where her thoughts were. Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to say something. "Why don't you talk about Teddy on first dates?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, not that I date much." Hermione nodded at that. "But I've found most girls don't want to hear about a toddler when they're trying to flirt. A lot of people don't even seem to realize I'm raising Teddy."

"Well you've done a brilliant job at keeping him out of the papers." Harry raised his eyebrows in agreement. The last thing he wanted was Teddy plastered across the _Prophet_.

"I think they just don't like to hear me gush. If I'd told that story just now to anyone else, they'd have just been uncomfortable or changed the subject or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. "That's just silly. Teddy's a part of your life, a massive part of your life." She reached across the table and took his hand. "Forget those girls. If they don't love Teddy as much as you do then they must be insane."

"Insane?" Harry grinned.

"Completely mental."

"Have to sort out their priorities."

"Shut up." She smiled as she took another bite of her food.

They each gave each other a point.

—

"Are you sure?" Hermione laughed as she twirled more fettuccine alfredo around her fork. "I think you'd make a dashing Minister."

Harry made a face. "Too much paperwork. I know I need something different, but politics is not the way to go, no matter how much _Skeeter_ would like it."

"I thought you liked the action?"

Harry sipped his wine. "Oh, I do. Well, I certainly don't mine the excitement. But I've got Teddy to think of and I don't want to leave him." He met her gaze seriously and said, "I need to be there for him."

"But you still want to help people," Hermione put in.

Harry nodded.

"Professor?"

"I can't bring Teddy to Hogwarts." Hermione frowned. She was sure Headmistress McGonagall would make an exception for Harry, but he'd never accept it. He hated favouritism of any kind towards himself or others. "Anyways, I thank you for your help but I think I've derailed our date—"

"Nonsense." She set her fork down. Hermione knew Harry was serious about this, he wouldn't have brought it up otherwise. "What about becoming more hands on within the orphanage? You're money is practically funding the whole thing anyways. We still don't have anyone fully in charge."

Harry's eyes widened. "I didn't know that. Wait - really?"

"Yes, of course." She leaned forward. "Why didn't you mention any of this before?"

"I haven't spoken to anyone about it yet," he replied honestly with a small shrug.

Hermione tilted her head and sighed. "Oh, Harry." He grinned.

—

Hermione moaned.

"You need to stop that."

She smirked at him as she slowly pulled the dessert spoon from her mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about." She dipped the spoon back into her chocolate mousse. Harry watched avidly, having abandoned his own dessert in favour of the show Hermione was putting on.

"I think you've had too much wine."

Under the table, the toe to Hermione's shoe slowly slid up Harry's calve. "I think I've had the perfect amount."

Harry coughed and looked around. "Check, please?" They both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Two small moans and one strategic flash of cleavage later, Harry had paid their tab and was trying to hail a taxi. Hermione chuckled. Her arms snaked in underneath his jacket as she wrapped them around his waist. Harry raised his hand, trying to hail a taxi while Hermione pressed her chest against him. He looked down at her and raised his eyebrows. "Comfortable?"

"Immensely." Her eyes glittered. "Why? Did you want me to move?"

"Not a chance," his arms slipped around her. "Besides, that homeless man across the street looks like he's hoping I get lucky and he gets a free show." Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see the older man Harry was talking about watching them avidly. Hermione buried her face in Harry's chest as she burst into laughter.

Hermione pulled herself together and looked up at him, her wild curls about her face in what Harry thought to be an incredibly attractive manner. "Maybe you will." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Harry laughed. "Oh? Did I play my cards right?"

Hermione leaned forward onto her tip-toes and pressed a lingering kiss to Harry's stubbled jawline. "You tell me?"

"Merlin, 'mione."

She giggled again before laying her head against his chest. "This has been a lovely evening, Mr Potter."

Harry raised a hand as another taxi drove by. "You really like calling me that."

"You started it." He nodded at that. She leaned up again, mouth curved into another one of her seductive smirks. "Besides, are you really complaining," her lips brushed his ear, "Mr Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The scent of tulips enveloped him. Not for the first time, Harry mentally acknowledged how dangerous of a game the two were playing. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The smile on his face refused to dissipate. "Never," he finally responded, as his fingers brushed over her cheek. "I'm almost sad to see the night nearly over."

"Almost?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Harry blushed and looked down. "I worry about Teddy. I don't often leave him alone at night."

"But Winky is home, isn't she?"

Harry nodded reluctantly. "She's not good at calming him when he cries. She tends to freak out a bit."

Hermione raised her hands and held Harry's face. "I'm sure they're both fine. And you'll be home soon anyways. It's lovely how much you care about him, honestly. I don't know how any of those girls could think anything but that."

Harry shrugged. "They weren't the right girls."

"No, they weren't."

His thumb touched her lip. "Thank Merlin you finally agreed to go out with me."

They gazed into each other's eyes until a taxi arrived.

—

Harry locked the door behind them to Grimmauld place. He turned to Hermione in the darkened hallway and swallowed nervously. "Is that it for the evening? Or would you care for a nightcap, Miss Granger?"

Hermione eyed Harry, her eyes flickering. He knew she was racing through calculations and lists and probably an Arithmancy problem or two as she tried to determine how to respond to Harry's very real offer in their not quite fake date.

Finally, she looked up, her lashes fluttering. "I wouldn't say no."

It was like a switch was flipped and the entire house was suddenly stiflingly hot.

Harry stepped forward and helped her out of her jacket. It fell to the floor behind her but neither noticed. His gaze was firmly fixed on his date. Hermione breathed in deeply, drawing Harry's eyes downward. Her fingers grasped his belt and pulled him closer. Her breath shallowed. Hermione's back bumped into the wall as Harry leaned into her. His nose ran along hers and he closed his eyes. Hermione's hand fisted in Harry's shirt. Their breaths mingled.

A cry pierced the air.

Harry's shoulder's sagged as he let out a breath. His forehead touched Hermione's and he said, "And that's why I don't bring women home."

Hermione chuckled lightly. She nudged her nose against his and nodded in the direction of the stairs. "Go on."

Harry gave Hermione one last look before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He disappeared upstairs to take care of his crying child. Hermione let out a breath and sagged against the wall. She looked at herself in the mirror on the opposite wall where Mrs Black once hung. Hermione's hair was a mess, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. She couldn't stop the smile that rose to her cheeks. It'd been a long time — too long — since she'd felt like this.

—

Harry was just exiting Teddy's room when Hermione came up the steps. He quietly closed the door and met her by the landing. She was caring two glasses of firewhiskey. Harry took one, curious to still find her here.

"How is he?"

"Alright now. Bad dream." He took a sip of his drink. "Funnily enough he was asking for Auntie Mimi."

Hermione smirked and took a sip of her own drink. "Well everyone knows Auntie Mimi scares away all the real monsters."

"I can't argue with that." He took another sip, eyeing her as he did so. "You're still here."

"I am."

Harry licked his lips. He was having second thoughts. She knew he was. Harry was putting Teddy's needs before his own as Harry often did with anyone's needs. Hermione knew this. She knew him. And Teddy needed Harry. He didn't want to be selfish. "I thought it was pretty obvious you won our little game. Quite the seductress." He grinned and winked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in amusement. She stepped closer, her body lightly brushing his. "Am I? The winner, that is. I mean, it's the end of the night and yet here I am. In _your_ home. With a nightcap." She looked up and brown eyes met green. "Waiting for you to take me to your bed."

Harry swallowed.

Hermione's fingers played with his red tie. She pulled him closer. Their bodies flush against one another. "So what do you say, Mr Potter?" Her lips brushed his. "Be my Valentine?"

Harry didn't hesitate. He kissed her and Hermione smiled.

* * *

This one is inspired off of the episode from Friends where Rachel and Joey go on a date and show each other their "best moves."

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!


	4. Somebody to Love

_Somebody to Love_

"Magic is controlled by emotions. The use of spells themselves are always more powerful when _emotionally_ powered." Flitwick looked around his class of seventh and eighth year students. It was the largest charms class he'd had in decades and it made the professor sad to know it was due to the war. At least, he thought, it was all finally over.

"You must learn," he continued, "to harness these emotions properly. Some of you have which is why the patronus charm came so easily to you." A few students smirked and looked to Harry Potter — the real reason such an advanced charm had been easy to learn. "But other emotions are needed for other spells. Those of you that want to continue an education in magical studies to earn your mastery will definitely need to do this. With that in mind, your assignment is to write about someone you love. Love, as our beloved late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore often said, is the strongest magic of all."

oOo

Hermione nearly missed Harry sitting alone by the fire. It was midnight and the common room was entirely empty save one raven haired saviour.

She blinked. The name "Harry Potter" sat still and alone by the fire on the Marauder's Map. Hermione, just entering the common room from her extended stay in the library, paused. She quietly tucked the Map away before coming around the couch to find the Head Boy sitting glumly by the arm.

"Harry?"

He looked up at her blankly. She was relieved he didn't jump, wand at the ready, as he often had over the summer when he'd become lost in memories of the war. Harry didn't look surprised to find the Head Girl standing by the arm of the couch, her hand resting gently on his shoulder.

"Hey," he smiled faintly.

"Did you have a nightmare?" He shook his head and at once Hermione knew he was telling the truth. "Why're you still up?"

Harry winced. "I need to finish my paper for tomorrow."

Hermione took a deep breath and prayed to Merlin to give her strength. When the boys had agreed to go back to school after the war, she had agreed not to hound them about homework. But Merlin were they testing her.

She let out her breath between clenched teeth. "Which one?"

"Flitwick's?"

" _Harry_ ," Hermione whispered harshly. Harry's wince deepened. "That's due tomorrow." She furrowed her brows. "And it doesn't even require research, it's not even formal. Just some words on a page, honestly, even Ron wrote it days ago."

"Yeah, well I'm not Ron."

Hermione frowned at Harry's snappish tone. Harry hadn't been like that since he'd lost the horocrux. He'd hardly frowned at all once school started back up, let alone _snapped_.

"I - I know that, Harry," Hermione responded quietly. She stepped over his long legs spread out before him and sat down on the couch. She crossed her legs and she sat so she faced Harry directly, giving him all her attention. "What's the problem, then?"

Harry shifted in his seat. He glanced up at her from his slouched position. "You'll say it's silly."

"I won't."

He glanced at her sidelong before sighing resignedly and revealed, "I don't know if I've ever loved someone."

Hermione just barely caught the laugh that bubbled up. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, having caught the sound. Her hands smacked against her knees indignantly. "Well it is silly!" Harry rolled his eyes. "What about Sirius? Remus? I mean, really Harry."

He glared at her and hugged a throw pillow to his stomach. "Well I didn't really know them, did I? Not as well as I would have liked. And I didn't spend much time with them."

"But you cared about them," she argued.

Harry nodded. "Of course I did. But caring isn't loving. And how am I supposed to know the difference?" Hermione remained quiet while Harry gathered her thoughts. "I just… Without even considering all the hate Voldemort filled me with for years I - it's not like I got a lot of great examples from the Dursley's."

It took everything in Hermione not to snap at the mention of Harry's muggle relatives. No one knew as much about what they had done to Harry than Hermione. Long nights in the tent while they were on the run had eventually brought such stories to light. Hermione had cried relentlessly upon hearing that her best friend had lived in a cupboard. She still cursed Dumbledore's name for knowing and having done nothing about it.

She leaned forward then and made sure Harry was looking directly into her eyes. "You're right, Harry. The way they treated you — it's not love. But you _are_ loved. By all of us, by the Weasley's. You know that, right?"

Harry nodded, he smiled slowly. "Yeah, Hermione. Of course I do."

"Don't you love the Weasley's in return?"

He made a face as he thought. "I care about them and they care about me — us. But it's really not the same is it? We're not Weasley's and I think that was pretty clear when we didn't spend the summer with them."

"We agreed to give them space."

Harry shrugged and nodded once. "Yes, because they're a family and they love each other. They needed to grieve together—"

"Harry," Hermione admonished lightly. She put her hand on his knee, "you can love someone that's not family. Not _blood_ family or otherwise."

Harry met her gaze challengingly. "Who did you write about?"

Hermione's face went bright red and her hand slipped away from his knee. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear as she looked down. "I - uhm…" She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well if you must know, I wrote about you."

She finally looked up to meet his shell shocked stare. "You - _really_?" Hermione smiled kindly. "You love me?" Harry's voice was filled with an awe and wonder Hermione had only ever heard from him very few times before. It was childlike, something Hermione knew Harry hardly ever was or had the opportunity to be.

The redness in her cheeks did not fade. "I do." They were silent. Hermione tore her gaze from Harry, lest she say something truly incriminating. She looked into the fire and pretended that it was the reason her face was warm.

"I was going to write about you too." Hermione's head whipped around to him. He was blushing too now. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, unable to look her in the eye. "I uhm… I actually started but… uh… I stopped."

Hermione's eyes suddenly zeroed in on the parchment just out of reach on the coffee table. The fire crackled. Hermione's chest rose as she took in one long, slow breath.

They both dove for it at the same time. Harry's fingers curled around the edge and he threw his arm back to keep it out of her reach. Hermione lunged forward and practically fell on top of Harry in her scramble for the parchment. He wrapped his free hand around her waist to stall her progress. She stretched her arm. Her fingertips were _just_ out of reach.

" _Hermione_ ," came Harry's strangled voice. Her breasts were nearly smothering him. Hermione looked down and her blush came rushing back to her in a second. She fell back and bounced when her bum hit the cushion. Her hands supported her against the cushions while her legs were left sprawled across Harry's lap. They stared at each other.

"Let me read it."

"No," came Harry's incredulous response.

"Oh, come on!"

"Let me read yours."

Her eyes widened. "Uhm…"

He smirked. "Not so brave now."

She scowled at him. "Well why'd you scrap it, then?"

Harry made a face. "I… it turned into a ramble of sorts and by the end of it… I wasn't really sure what I was talking about anymore. I clearly don't know what love is."

Hermione leaned forward and touched her fingers to his chin. "Love is what kept Voldemort out of your mind in fifth year, what you use to power a patronus."

Harry nodded. "Yeah… it's what my mum used to save me."

"Exactly. Harry…" Her fingers moved along his jaw and spread through his hair. "There is so much love in your life. You hardly need to even go looking for it. And obviously, it's not going anywhere. We're not going anywhere." Her thumb stroked along his cheek bone as he stared into the fire. "It doesn't matter if Voldemort's gone. If the war is over. We're not simply _done_ with you." She pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. "My love for you is not conditional."

Harry rubbed his hand across his mouth. He turned his head slightly, his eyes watery. "How do you do that?" He looked at her fully. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

She smiled at him lovingly. "I know you. And I know when you're lying so why did you actually scrap it?"

Harry shot her an annoyed look. He let out a shaky breath to calm himself down. "I wasn't lying… per se." Hermione raised her eyebrows. He sighed. "It started out well enough," he finally revealed. "But the further I got into it, the less…" Merlin, he needed to stop talking. He was on the verge of something and he wasn't sure what it was but he should probably stop talking. "… it sounded different to what I'd been expecting and it was a bit surreal to just write and see thoughts form I didn't realize I had—" he cut himself off before he truly started to ramble.

"What sort of thoughts?" When Harry looked at her, he couldn't identify the expression on her face. It was soft. Her eyes were a warm golden brown colour. "Were they bad thoughts?" she prompted.

"What? No!" He frantically shook his head. "About you, 'mione? Never."

She smiled. "Then I don't know what you're being so brooding about."

"I'm not brooding." She raised an eyebrow at his pout. "I'm not!"

She sighed and looked away. "Fine." Hermione leaned over and pulled from the depth of her bag a perfectly rolled scroll of parchment. "You can read mine."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really?"

She made a face, clearly still unsure about her offer. "Yes, but it's personal," she quickly added, "so don't you dare laugh."

"I won't. I promise."

Hermione hesitantly handed over the parchment. Harry took it, his fingers gentle as if it were the winning snitch given to him at the end of the World Champion. He swallowed and unrolled it.

Hermione bit her thumbnail as she watched him read. She couldn't stop the nervousness from rolling off of her in unsteady waves. This had been a bad, terrible idea. She should take it back.

But then Harry looked up at her and her breath caught at the expression on his face. "'A hero,'" he quoted aloud to her, "'despite what he might think of himself and forever my hero as well.'" Hermione smiled sadly at his look of utter surprise. "You don't really think that."

"I do," she whispered.

"It was all a fluke, Hermione. I didn't do anything. Dumbledore—"

"Was not responsible for you stopping Voldemort in first year, or second year, or really any time after that until the very end. Even then, Harry. You didn't know you would survive. It was still _your_ choice to make. You may not think you're a hero, in fact, I know you don't. But you're my hero." She brushed her fingers through his wild hair. He closed his eyes but a few traitorous tears leaked through.

"Thanks, 'mione."

Hermione kissed his cheek. "Anytime." She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The sound of the crackling fire filled the air, accompanied by the crinkling of parchment as Harry filled with the sound of a quill scratching away was added soon after and made Hermione open her eyes. Harry was writing his assignment. She smiled and snuggled in closer to her best friend's side, hugging his free arm to her chest. Her eyes fell shut as she drifted off to sleep.

oOo

 _I'm not sure I exactly know what love is and after my talk with Hermione on the subject I feel like I've got more questions than answers. Is love supposed to make your heart race? Your breath catch? Make you feel like you're about to lose or gain everything you've ever wanted in a second?_

 _I don't know._

 _Perhaps that's not what love is or at least the sort of love everyone else feels. It's what I feel for Hermione. What I've for her for years. It's the strongest feeling I know, so it must be love — perhaps not the kind it's supposed to be. Despite any reassurances I gave Ron in the past, I think I've always known that it's not how one ought to feel for family. That soft sort of familial love. But what else was I supposed to think, when she clearly meant the world to me._ Does _mean the world to me._

 _I walked into that forest for Hermione Granger._

 _Her paper will tell you I'm a hero. It'll tell you that I'm selfless and courageous and I died to save everyone. But that's a lie._

 _I died for Hermione._

 _I could give a damn about the rest of the Wizarding World, so long as she's safe. Hermione. She is the reason I get up in the morning. Her smiles fill me with enough joy to throw off a hundred dementors. I know. It's done it before. Just sitting with her — as I am now — fills me with a sort of peace that I once thought to be impossible._

 _I feel at home when I'm with her. I barely even understand what home is. Far less than love. But I feel it — I can feel it. I don't know what it is but I can feel it when I'm with her. So I must feel love too._

 _Love. I might just be in love with Hermione. Not just the normal sort of love. The bigger one, the all consuming one. I doubt I could ever feel anything less than it all when it comes to Hermione._

 _I think I am._

 _Don't tell Hermione, but I'm pretty positive I am._

 _I think she is too._

* * *

 **Prompt** : writing assignment about someone you love.

This gave me so many goddamn problems that I was not expecting and then it got actually sort of emotional but it was supposed to be fluffy? I think I'm on a bit of an angst kick. Expect more angst but with happy endings in the near future. I apologize in advance.

Thanks for reading!


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